


They’re friends, it seems.

by thearchivizt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ice Cream, thats literally it. they’re just getting ice cream.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearchivizt/pseuds/thearchivizt
Summary: It’s a hot summer day at the archives, and Martin wanted some ice cream. Everyone was quick to comply, becuase who could say no to Martin?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, also basira and daisy r there! they don’t say shit or get referred to. but they exist..., its IMPLIED?292):, sort of. - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	They’re friends, it seems.

**Author's Note:**

> My friend told me Jon’s got a favorite ice cream flavor, no other context, and I said oh AWESOME! And so.
> 
> sorry if this is bad?192?:9,) i don’t write. fanfics. HDNCHCHSHX

The office was stuffy, air stagnant and dry, and everyone could practically feel their hair growing greasier and greasier as the day progressed. It was what felt like the hottest day of the year, and being in the archives only made it more insufferable.

Sasha had a tiny fan, the type you’d buy at an amusement park for some astronomical price, but the batteries ran out. So it sat atop her desk, taunting her as she tried to focus on her research rather than the heat.

Tim was right beside her, leaning on her table and yammering about how she could stop working if she wanted to, because it wouldn’t really matter. While he spoke, he waved his face and occasionally her own. She didn’t respond, but there was a playful smile on her face which told him he could continue. He did stop eventually though as talking led to sweat. Instead, he played with the fan, flicking it.

Jon has been doing everything like he usually would: making statements, organizing files, as if the heat didn’t bother him. The only difference present is how he lacked his vest and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. His tie dangled, undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The aforementioned grease in his hair always seemed to be there, so it wasn’t a big change!

One can say he’s actually faring well when it came to the heat.

Martin’s curls stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were rosy, but he refused to take off any of his layers. He had drank about five water bottles by now, each crumpled around his desk. Despite that, he remained dissatisfied. There was only one solution to this modern dilemma!

The boy cleared his throat and asks: “could we get ice cream, maybe?” His request broke through the layers of silence, everyone’s heads turning to face him.

So that was that! Decided right then and there, that everyone would quit working for a moment and get some ice cream.

Decided wasn’t exactly the word, actually. Sasha said she could go for a shake, Jon protested, but was dragged out, and Tim went because of the “hot lady who was working there,” but everyone knew it was just to go with Sasha.  
Everyone but Tim.

Speaking of the guy, he wouldn’t stop complaining!

“I’m lactose intolerant, yknow.” He’d comment every once in a while as the group trudged down the road, the sun blaring on them.

Their clothing stuck to their skin, which was moist and damp in all the worst places, especially Martin’s palms. They smothered Jon’s own as he insisted on holding them, and who was Jon to disagree? Martin started the walk swinging their arms back and forth, but quickly faltered as it progressed.

When Tim didn’t get a response, he’d just say his catchphrase again.

“I’m lactose intolerant, and—”

“We _know,_ Tim.” Jon quipped. Martin squeezes his hand, but he continues. “The nerve of this guy, just go back to the office then if you’re going to complain.” He looked at Tim with a tired scowl, sweat slipping down his forehead.

“You’re one to talk.” Tim rebutted with a scoff. “Tell ‘im, Sash.”

Sasha, being the mediator that she is, decided not to comment. Instead, she said: “What flavor ice cream are you guys thinking of getting? I’m fond of mint myself, it’s basic I know, but I like it.” She tilted her head towards Martin, hoping he would answer.

“Well, I like strawberry, or vanilla.” He mumbled with a smile.

After a brief bout of silence, Jon responds. “If I had to choose, rum and raisin.”

“That’s a... good choice Jon!” Martin once again squeezed his hand, picking up the pace as the shop grew nearer.

Sasha’s face scrunches up, brows furrowing. “Don’t lie to him Martin. Jon that’s atrocious.”

“I didn’t _ask_ for your opinion, Sasha, you asked for mine.” Jon sneered. “If I like rum and raisin then that’s the flavor I like!” There was no reason for him to be as defensive as he was, but that’s Sims for you!

“Jon, that really _is_ shit,” Tim snickered, stretching his arms across his chest. “See, I’m lactose intolerant,” Tim starts, lips pulling into a humorous smirk. “So—”

“We’re here!” Sasha interjects. “Everyone in, single file.” She urged, stepping aside so the group could waltz in.

The shop was surprisingly empty, aside from those working that day. There were two cops in the corner, sharing a shake and chattering pleasantly, but there seemed to be no one else. Jon sighed, stretched idly as he waited for someone to order first. After noticing how no one made the move, Sasha rolled her eyes and walked up.

With her hands planted on the cool counter, she made her request. “One mint shake, small, please.” Quick and elegant, easy. She then gestured for Martin to go next, which he did. A medium strawberry sundae, with rainbow sprinkles and marshmallow drizzle. Tim walked over to the duo as Jon hung back.

 _“Do_ _you have any lactose intolerant options?”_

He had a decision to make: suffer with rum and raisin, or pick a good flavor.

_“Tim, please.”_

Cotton candy looked appealing, but not something he could ever be seen enjoying if he wanted his image preserved. That’s why he picked that miserable flavor in the first place! But why on earth would he choose rum and raisin? Why not _anything_ else?

_“Actually, we do!”_

He’s really about to spend money on rum and raisin.

_“Oh, score! You hear that guys?”_

You could hear the smile on Tim’s face as the crux of his joke comes full circle.

_”Now, that’s a win for the lactose intolerant community. I’ll have a regular cone of rocky road please.”_

Jon snapped his head towards his coworker, mouth agape as he tried to find the words to say without getting thrown out of the shop. He had been listening to that dastardly conversation in the background, and was ready to yell at Tim for what might be the fourth time today, but oddly enough, his expression melted into a smile.

Even weirder, they smiled back!

“C’mon Jon, please make your order before I kill him.” Sasha said with a laugh, and Tim slapped her shoulder.

As annoying as they may be, he liked them. They’d never know that of course, he had a persona to maintain after all, but he truly enjoyed their company.

They’re friends, it seems.

What a nice change of pace.


End file.
